Hobbit star turns her talents to Batman (Rousse)

Posted on December 30, 2012 by Dreamaticus

Now that the filming for The Hobbit was complete, it was time to celebrate. Co-starring as Bilbo Baggins’ best friend, I was in the thick of the action both on and off-stage. However, we all knew that the real star of the show was MP. It was his company that had masterminded the entire production of the movie from a tiny set in Berkshire.

My co-stars and I wandered around the party helping ourselves to drinks and canapés while the crew dismantled the set. Just as MP embarked upon a discussion on the nature of female beauty that none of the (few) actresses understood (me included), Joanne (the Dean’s PA) called me into her office. She was keen to show me some photos that she had taken during the filming, and to check on behalf of the Dean that I had enjoyed my foray into acting. I borrowed a couple of the photos to show to RM later.

By the time that I returned to the party the key members of the cast and crew were lining up on rows of red velvet seats to watch the post-production awards ceremony. MP was sure to be cited and rushed ahead of me to grab a good spot in the audience.

I hesitated over where to sit and then decided that I really had had enough of all things associated with The Lord of the Rings. So I walked away to greet the next party queuing to use MP’s Berkshire film production facilities. I was pretty sure that there’d be a leading role for me in Batman.

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A fortunate Falkirk house sale (Rousse)

Posted on December 30, 2012 by Dreamaticus

Following a fabulous picnic on the grassy dunes of Falkirk from where PC, SA, RC and I watched the sea-rooted wind turbines, I confirmed my decision to move out of town.

How fortunate that the doctor’s Georgian house on the main street was both for sale and suitable. This would make an excellent home for me, and I’d also get to see so much more of the family that I both admired and loved.

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Celery and lettuce leftover plans (Rousse)

Posted on December 29, 2012 by Dreamaticus

My exam preparation class went reasonably well, but there was a lot of salad left afterwards. I urged all the students, but particularly SL, to take the celery and lettuce home with them.

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Award-winning dress designer’s garment giveaway and new restaurant business venture (Rousse)

Posted on December 26, 2012 by Dreamaticus

I bumped into the award-winning dress designer MSB in the queue at the enquiry desk of the Scottish Business Information Service, within the National Library of Scotland. While I had been working (and risking the loss of my MacBook Air by leaving it unattended for long periods), MSB was using published research to help extend her business empire.

Afterwards MSB invited me back to her premises to see her latest work. My niece AF, and her friends HH and LA, came along too. Before long MSB was pulling beautiful gowns from her storeroom for AF to model. The first was a long, ruched creation in shocking pink that belonged back in the 1980s. I thought that AF would refuse to wear it, but she obliged, and on her slim frame the dress itself now looked fabulous. MSB supplied another dress, then a hat, more dresses, then even more accessories, and soon AF had a huge pile of garments at her feet. “You can keep the lot” said MSB to AF, then whispered to me “It’s OK, I’ll sort out the bill with you later”.

Our next stop was MSB’s latest business venture: a posh restaurant. As one might expect of a woman of such style the décor that she had chosen for the dining room was outstanding, but there were three very odd things about the dining experience itself. First, dinner guests could be randomly moved around the room if table space became tight. Second, there were no waiting staff. Third, if you decided to eat here you faced a hefty bill at the end of the meal. A bowl of soup, for example, cost £333.

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London submerged under floods (Rousse)

Posted on December 24, 2012 by Dreamaticus

I stood on the bridge over the “road” and marvelled at the swollen river that had forced a course through central London. It was now impossible to tell what was the Thames and what was not. Although everyone had been instructed to keep off the roads (such as they were), numerous cars, and even a bus full of passengers, could be seen floating downstream towards the sea.

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Top dog collars (Rousse)

Posted on December 23, 2012 by Dreamaticus

This woman was impressive. A former barrister, she was now training as a priest and studying for a PhD at the same time. Most of all I admired her compromise clerical outfit: smart trousers topped with a fashionable roll neck cashmere jumper, incorporating dog collar.

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Miss Piggy’s plastic surgery and GCHQ’s latest discovery (Rousse)

Posted on December 22, 2012 by Dreamaticus

“Miss Piggy was the first animal to go under the knife”, said I, the renowned expert on plastic surgery for pets. The conversation continued as we hobbled along the country lane that ran alongside the M5. The tramp was good company, although I knew in my heart that I would eventually abandon him to return to where I belonged, back in Birmingham.

Later that afternoon, and by now not far from Cheltenham, I decided to head north again. Rather than walk, I planned to hitch a lift with a worker from GCHQ. I hung around the gates to the facility, but failed to attract anyone’s attention.

My priorities changed when a woman approached me and asked if I’d like to see a newly-discovered element. I followed her up a steep wooded path, then to the top of a tower, where an enormous cathedral bell hung. The scientists had wasted no time fashioning their new discovery into an artefact that was both practical and beautiful.

I never made it back to Birmingham. Even the bus service in Worcester refused to take me.

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Smuggling sisters in the ‘bag for life’ mystery (Belle)

Posted on December 22, 2012 by Dreamaticus

As the lift door opened my father rushed out and shoved two plastic ‘bags for life’ towards us – one each for my sister and me. “You must smuggle these out of here” he said, before rushing off across the lobby. Did he mean out of this hotel, or out of this unspecified eastern bloc country?

Glancing into the bag I saw bundles of crisp banknotes and quickly closed the bag again. Before I had time to ask what this meant, a dozen security men in sunglasses and suits started chasing towards us. We stepped into the lift and began an exhilarating game of hide and seek in which we hid in shower cubicles, at the back of wardrobes and under beds.

Eventually, however, it became clear that I would need to abandon the money if we were to escape across the border. Having arrived in Switzerland, I began to have suspicions about my sister. Was that a corner of a ‘bag for life’ tucked into her waistband? Had she smuggled out the money so she could keep it all for herself?

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Rob Brydon and Sarah Millican top Rousse’s bill

Posted on December 21, 2012 by Dreamaticus

Our timing was perfect. The family that had bought our little house in Birmingham was away for Christmas, so we could just move straight back in.

At first the neighbours were suspicious, but one by one we won them over. It was quite strange to see them all again. One woman admitted that she never liked me simply because I was famed for getting up early and drinking tea all day long. Now she became my friend.

Some of our Edinburgh pals were there too, including JM who was delighted to enjoy our company once more, and keen to get to know all the interesting people that I had recently met in Cheshire.

Rob Brydon and Sarah Millican even managed to find time to pop in on their way north to Sunderland for gigs the following night.

So long as the owners never returned, we’d all be very happy here.

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Enemy of the Principal loses her mind (Rousse)

Posted on December 20, 2012 by Dreamaticus

My class started at 14:00 and it was already 14:05. I still needed to collect the materials from my office. More pressing was the requirement to dress. I couldn’t really turn up to teach wearing just a navy blue towel. I wondered if I had PN’s mobile number? If so, I could send a text and ask him to make sure that he and the rest of students waited for me. I would be with them soon.

On my way to my office I passed SS heading off to a corporate do, dressed in a dinner suit. Then I spotted our former Head of School. I really did not have time to talk to him so I zipped past, hoping that I would not be recognised in my blue towel disguise. My strategy failed. Now I had to respond to his accusation that I had been supplying secrets to GW. Was I an enemy of the Principal? I declared that I had no knowledge of this, pointing to my horrendous e-mail backlog as evidence of my innocence.

I still needed to get to my class, and I headed off in the direction of the H floor. Since the merger with QMU it had become quite tricky to access certain parts of the campus: staircases led nowhere, and escalators randomly took you wherever they wanted, often to the opposite end of town. I tried to find my way by tramping up a steep, static escalator. At the very top I had no idea where I was.

It was with great relief that here I found someone who I both recognised and trusted. I turned to DT and admitted that I thought I was about to lose my mind. She stared straight back at me and replied bluntly “Too late, you already have”.

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